


Present Traditions

by schneestern



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schneestern/pseuds/schneestern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John/Rodney schmoopiness, PG-13ish or something, Christmas presents are exchanged.<br/>Written for kashmir1 to maybe make her smile a little and show her how much of an awesome person I think she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Present Traditions

It's surprising that Rodney McKay of all people loves Christmas with a fiery passion. Well, it's surprising for any outsider who watches Rodney yell at his staff for being incompetent monkeys, while a Santa hat is pulled down almost over his ears. It might be strange to Ronon and Teyla who have nothing compared to Christmas on their worlds and haven't really grasped the concept of mistletoes and why Rodney gets angry when they don't kiss after standing under one for over an hour. Colonel Carter doesn't get it either, standing on the balcony with Keller, watching Rodney wrap a tiny present on the South pier because he thinks no one can see him there.

John can't say he gets it either. But he knows Rodney. He knows that not everything about Rodney can be explained and not everything about Rodney needs to be explained. Which is why he takes the little present Rodney shoves at him and hands him one he pulls from under his bed. He watches the way Rodney's eyes light up, like they probably did way back when he was still a small boy, hadn't yet come into contact with loss and sadness and despair and fear. It's also the reason why he doesn't mind when Rodney walks over to the window of John's room, facing out to the ocean and unwraps his present with his back to John. He hates being watched when he opens his presents, he told John a few days ago.

For a moment John just watches Rodney's back, listens to the rustle as his fingers rip into the wrapping paper, excited and careless, different than when he's in his lab where everything's about being careful. Then John turns back to his own present, a tiny small one that easily fits into his palm. He picks at the wrapping that haphazardly is held together by endless amounts of tape. It takes him a bit to find a beginning but then it's easy to unwind the whole thing until finally a neat little object falls into his palm.

He has to turn it over, run his fingers over the smooth metal before he realizes it's a jet, sleek, sharp lines and little cockpit. It's no model he knows, hell, it looks like none that exists, but the longer he looks at it the more he sees the burnt little ages and realizes it was self-made. John wonders how much concentration and favors it had taken Rodney to make this. For him.

John takes a deep, calming breath, then runs his thumb over the metal again, already warming from his skin.

"It's a wonderful present, Rodney," he says into the room.

"Yours too," Rodney says next to his ear and John starts, turning to Rodney who's bent down close to John's face. He's holding the pillow in his hands, custom made, quality product, something that will make Rodney's back ache less. Something John's been trying to get a hold of for over a year now.

John opens his mouth to answer, to say something, but Rodney's already bending down, hand sliding into his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Rodney's lips are dry and soft and he kisses John thoroughly, like this is a present too, like this is part of a new ritual.

John pulls Rodney down on the bed with him, on top of him, and rolls so close his hand clutched around the little jet gets stuck between their bodies as they continue to kiss. Faintly, John thinks about the little marks it will leave in the skin of his palm.

He likes that thought.


End file.
